


meet me under the mistletoe

by wouldyouknowmore



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Dumb boys being dumb, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Holiday Cliches, Incest, Loki is oblivious is anyone surprised, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, what happens under the mistletoe does not stay under the mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28448988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wouldyouknowmore/pseuds/wouldyouknowmore
Summary: Loki is in love with his older brother, and he's dealing with it. Incestuous crush under control, no need to panic.Until Thor talks him into attending a destination wedding with him as his fake boyfriend, anyway.Loki has plenty of time before this trip to go back and forth between extreme, intense regret, and a cavalier sort of confidence that everything will be fine. Because, after all, if he’s been capable of keeping his feelings to himself for almost twenty years now, even through the unfortunate hormones of his teenage years spent in close quarters with the object of his affections, surely he can handle a few days and some slightly closer than usual contact.Surely.He’s on a confident upswing while he waits in line at the rental car counter at the airport, almost looking forward to the challenge ahead even, when two very large arms suddenly snake around his middle from behind, and a chin drops onto his shoulder.The swing back to extreme, intense regret isswift.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 81
Kudos: 322





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the special Hallmark Christmas movie edition of _Megan Tries to Write a Short Fic and Fails_ 🎄
> 
> All usual thank yous and love to Wendy, my long-suffering Editor in Chief 😘
> 
> Also, this fic is already complete and will be updating daily! ENJOY ❤️💚

Thor calls him on a Saturday toward the middle of November, far too early in the morning. 

“Time zone,” Loki grumbles in lieu of _hello_ , though he does find the energy to smile at Thor’s apologetic _oohhh_. … But only because Thor can’t see it. 

“Sorry,” Thor says. “I forgot. But you know you could have just sent me to voicemail.” 

“And miss an opportunity to bitch at you? What do you want at six AM on the weekend, anyway?”

“Just checking in to see how my baby brother’s doing and tell him that I’m still heartbroken about him moving two thousand miles away from me.” 

“It’s been months, Thor,” Loki says, yawning to hide any hint of whatever that (very unwelcome) emotion was. He moved for a reason, he reminds himself, and Thor saying things like that on the regular was a big part of it. Well. The way he _feels_ about Thor saying things like that would be more accurate. He’s pretty sure brothers are allowed to talk to each other that way without one of them wishing it was more than just a familial sort of heartbreak so that certain inappropriate feelings would be mutual. He can admit that one’s on him.

(So. His bad, on the whole incestuous crush thing.)

“Yes, I know, and I miss your face, Lo. Let me see it.” 

The subsequent FaceTime request should be ignored, especially considering that Loki still has drool on his cheek and his hair is probably a greasy, tangled mess of curls at the moment. But he’s also acutely aware of the fact that Thor is _attractive_ , and the way he always looks at Loki like he’s never been so delighted to see anyone or anything ever before in his life amplifies that attractiveness to an inordinate level. Can he be blamed for not wanting to miss that?

“Ohhh, I love what you’ve done with your hair.” 

“Fuck off,” Loki grouses, but without any real venom. The grin Thor’s giving him, eyes crinkled up at the corners, is too fond and warm for him to try that hard. He looks good, like always. Too good. Good enough that Loki instantly regrets the move again for the thousandth time. But that’s only more confirmation that it was the right thing to do, isn’t it?

“San Fran looks cozy, though,” Thor says, still smiling. “Wish I was there. I wanna go back to bed.” 

… Definitely the right thing, Loki thinks. 

“Nothing’s stopping you, and you’re all that’s stopping me from going back to sleep. What do you want?”

“Well, I have an offer for you, actually.”

Loki doubts it’s an offer to split him in half and/or his hand in marriage, but his interest is piqued all the same. 

“Go on.”

“And if you say yes, you’ll also really, really, really help me out.” 

“No, then.”

Thor pauses long enough to give him a pout, and then continues, “How would you feel about a nice, all-expense-paid vacation? Cute little lake resort in Vermont, just in time for Christmas?”

“Um. Why? You’re not stuck in some kind of timeshare sales pitch, are you?”

“Ha, no,” Thor says, and that nice just-for-Loki smile starts to fade. It’s a shame. “But uh, there _is_ sort of a catch.” 

Loki knew it. 

“I knew it.”

“You’d, um. Have to share a room with me.”

“Awful. Unacceptable,” Loki responds, only half exaggerating.

“And there’s something else.”

“Worse than having to hear you snore?” 

Thor pushes his hair back from his face, brows all furrowed up now, and Loki starts to worry that he might have actually gotten himself into something serious. That’s his _I fucked up_ face, after all, and Loki hasn’t seen it this intense since Thor had wrecked their father’s car after borrowing it without permission when they were in high school. 

“Spit it out,” he says, sitting up in bed now.

“So,” Thor begins, looking everywhere but at his phone, “you know I started this job, right… what, six months ago? It was right after you left. And I was getting along really well with my boss right away, really hit it off, things were going great. And then one day she asked me if I wanted to grab a drink after work, and I was like, shit, do I need to call HR? Is this a quid pro quo thing? Is she gonna fire me if I turn her down? So I panicked, and I said I was seeing somebody, which I wasn’t. I mean, I’m not. I don’t… Anyway—”

Is it wrong to take a little secret, jealous pleasure at the thought of your super hot brother still being single? Probably.

“—she actually laughed her ass off at me, and said she was ‘so not interested’ and was engaged to another woman, so at least that worked out, and we’re still cool. We hang out a little bit, you know. Work friend situation. Not quite work bestie, since she’s my boss. That’s Val. But Carol’s really great.”

He pauses here, bites his lip and fiddles with his hair again like he’s stalling, so Loki says, “I’m not understanding the holiday vacation yet.” 

“I’m getting there. I just… This is really stupid. Anyway, so I thought it was cool that Carol was with a lady, so I said, hey nice, I’m gay too. You know. Solidarity. But _then_ she says, hey tell me about your boyfriend, I want a pic. And I panicked _again_ , obviously, and then the first picture I could find on my phone of me with anybody at all was that one of me and you from Mom’s birthday—”

Oh, surely not… 

“—and next thing I know, she’s asking me all these questions and I’m still panicking so I’m just making shit up, right? And long story short, she doesn’t know you’re my brother and she thinks we were best friends when we were kids and grew up together and fell in love and now we’re having to do the long distance relationship thing, _and_ I may have continued to let her think this for the last several months—and _now_ , she’s getting married in Vermont the second weekend of December, and she’s invited me and you. Like. As a couple.”

Loki has the tiny video feed in the corner of his phone’s screen to tell him that he’s sort of gaping at Thor like an idiot right now, but he also can’t really bring himself to care about that.

“I fucked up,” Thor groans when Loki is unable to form a coherent response. “I know. I shouldn’t have let it go on so long, but there’s a chance that I could put my name in for a big promotion soon, and if I get it, I wouldn’t be working with her anymore. Which is sad, because I like her, but I wouldn’t have to keep lying either. But! If I tell her before all the interviewing starts, it’ll make things really weird, and I might not get the job because of it.”

“‘It’ll make things weird,’” Loki repeats slowly. “Because choosing your _brother_ as your fake boyfriend isn’t weird already?”

Thor gives him an absolutely miserable face. “I knowww,” he says again. “I’m sorry. I should have just said we broke up or something, but I was stupid. I was really stupid. But I just… I need about four days of casual PDA and a little backstory memorization, and I will owe you for _so_ long, Lo.”

It doesn’t seem to faze Thor when Loki chokes on his own spit at ‘casual PDA,’ but then that’s probably because he thinks Loki’s choking for a normal reason, like disgust. Which is, of course, not the case. 

“I know this is ridiculous. But I’ll pay for everything, and we can do whatever you want while we’re there before the wedding. I really need that promotion though, and it’s just a few days, not even a week, and then once it’s over I’ll just say we broke it off and it was messy and I don’t wanna talk about you ever again. Or something. … And I’ll even say it was my fault, so they don’t think you’re a dick.” 

The pleading look on his face is the same one that’s gotten Loki into a fair amount of trouble over the years, and he finds it just as hard to resist now, even considering what’s expected of him this time. (Although, maybe part of that is _because_ of what’s expected of him. Because he’s a masochist, obviously.)

“This is short notice, Thor,” Loki says, hedging. Or trying to anyway, but he’s already thinking about all the unused time off he still has, how it might be nice to see some snow, how it might be nice to get away besides the trip home he already has booked for Christmas itself, how it might be nice to catch up with Thor, just the two of them, after so long apart… 

How it might be nice to, you know, flirt with catastrophe and emotional devastation… 

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask for a while, actually.” 

This is a terrible idea, but the almost shy little look Thor gives him paired with that statement puts the final nail in the coffin. Shit.

Loki huffs out a sigh, scrubs his face with one hand, and says, “When you say all-expense-paid, does that include alcohol?”

———

Several weeks, and then several hours in the air once the day finally arrives is plenty of time for Loki to go back and forth between extreme, intense regret, and a cavalier sort of confidence that everything will be fine. Because, after all, if he’s been capable of keeping his feelings to himself for almost twenty years now, even through the unfortunate hormones of his teenage years spent in close quarters with the object of his affections, surely he can handle a few days and some slightly closer than usual contact. 

Surely.

He’s on a confident upswing while he waits in line at the rental car counter at the airport, almost looking forward to the challenge ahead even, when two very large arms suddenly snake around his middle from behind, and a chin drops onto his shoulder. 

The swing back to extreme, intense regret is _swift_. 

“Sorrysorrysorry,” Thor whispers in a rush, breath tickling his ear, and Loki thinks that if he just turned tail and jumped back on the plane, no one would be able to judge him. Except security, maybe. “Sorry Val was on the flight with me and she’s right behind me please don’t freak out just act natural okay?”

‘Act natural,’ he says. Hilarious. Thor is huge and firm and warm and smells amazing, and he’s _cuddling_ Loki in a display specifically meant to look _romantic_ , and he wants Loki to _act natural_. 

“Fuck,” Loki says aloud. 

The elderly woman waiting in front of him turns around and glares, and then turns back around with a huff. 

God, he’s losing it already, isn’t he? Twenty year record about to go straight in the trash, just like that.

“You okay?” Thor whispers again, and dear almighty god, he’s turned his head, and his beard is now brushing against the side of Loki’s throat, leaving goosebumps in its wake—shit, was that a _lip_?

No. No, he is _not_ okay.

“Yeah,” Loki lies. He’s got to get his shit together, though, and _fake it ‘til you make it_ has always been a favorite personal mantra of his, so he might as well start now. And in this case, faking it involves acting like he’s in love with Thor, so really, it shouldn’t be that difficult, right? 

He takes a deep breath and tries to relax, at least a little, and reaches up behind him to awkwardly hug Thor back with one arm. He gets the back of his neck and decides to slip his hand up to his head instead (that’s cutesy enough to be convincing, right?), but _god_ his hair is soft and—wait, _short?_

“Your hair,” Loki says, and finds himself turning on his heel—which is a mistake, of course, with Thor standing so close with his arms still around him. Not that he realizes this until he’s looking up into (a slightly nervous version of) the Just-for-Loki grin from about five inches away, but then the shock of seeing Thor’s hair cut short for the first time is enough to save him from making too much of a fool of himself. 

“Kind of drastic, I know,” Thor says. He reaches up to touch it, too, and, _god_ , Loki wants to dig his fingers in where it’s longer on the top, but he’s fairly certain that the sort of grabbing he’d like to do wouldn’t be appropriate in public even if they were actually dating. “But it’s more professional, right?” 

Not when he looks this fuckable, it’s not, but Loki keeps that opinion to himself. 

“What do you think?”

Loki can’t answer that with complete honesty, but when he says, “It suits you,” Thor lights up anyway and pulls him into a hug. 

“I missed you,” he says, and then adds more quietly, just for him, “for real, Lo.” 

Oh no. He’s fucked, isn’t he? The distance was supposed to make dealing with this crush easier, but all it’s done is leave him that much more susceptible to the proximity, and now he doesn’t even get a brotherly buffer between them to help out. He’s very much fucked, so he does the only thing he can, which is hug back and say, “Missed you, too.” 

Thor hears the sincerity in it, if the way he squeezes him tighter is any indication. 

Yeah. Definitely fucked. 

By the time Thor lets him go, the line has moved on without them, and so has Val, apparently. But Loki doesn’t mind putting off the first of what will be several awkward introductory conversations, he’s sure. And speaking of, he’s got a whole hour and a half in the car with Thor before they get to the resort, and he means to spend all of it grilling him on the details of their supposed history. Thor is a terrible liar, and Loki’s certain keeping the story straight is going to be a trial. 

But maybe if he’s lucky, it’ll be challenging enough to distract him from the _other_ trials that surely await. 

(He’s not holding his breath though.)

———

It’s dark by the time they arrive, but even so, the resort still looks like something out of a cheesy Hallmark holiday movie. Lights are strung around every rooftop and fencepost and tree on the property, evergreen garlands and red ribbon wrapped around door frames and railings, the snow falling in big, fluffy flakes… It almost makes Loki forget about the absolutely ridiculous conversation they’re having as they pull up to the front door of the lodge. 

“… and I told Carol you were vegetarian, but I _might_ have said vegan to Val now that I think about it,” Thor says. 

“I’m neither, Thor.” 

“I know that, but it just came out one day and then I had to roll with it, you know? I think that’s all of it, anyway.”

Loki can’t possibly imagine what circumstances would have called for Thor to come up with that, but then that’s been the case for probably half of the details Thor has shared with him. He’s told him time and time again that the best lie is a vague one, but of course it’s never really sunk in. So now in addition to being his brother’s fake boyfriend, he’s also got to remember, among other things, that he’s some degree of vegetarian, that they’ve been together for either three or six years depending on who Loki speaks to (because Thor had forgotten once and told people differently), that they’d taken a lovely, romantic trip to Italy last year that Loki is sure to be asked about (despite never having been there), and that apparently his parents died when he was young and Odin and Frigga took him in out of the kindness of their hearts. 

(But that last one is fair, he has to admit, considering that it might have been difficult for Thor to explain why his parents are also his boyfriend’s parents.) 

Who knows what else Thor’s forgotten about, but with the details mostly covered, there’s one more thing to settle, something that Loki feels is critical to his mental health and emotional wellbeing. 

“Alright, let’s get something else straightened out right now,” he says as he puts the car into park. 

“What’s that?”

“You said there would be PDA expected.”

“Oh. Right. They all know I’m, you know, affectionate. So.”

“So.”

Thor stares at him a moment, wets his lips, and then gives him a shrug. “So it’ll look weird if I’m not affectionate with you, too.” 

“And how far do you expect to take that?”

More staring. It’s dim in the car, but Loki’s pretty sure that he’s seeing Thor’s _I hadn’t thought that far ahead and now I regret it_ face. Loki has given the matter more than a fair amount of thought himself, but he doubts in the same way that Thor is now. The regret is certainly mutual, though, at any rate.

“Um. I guess just some family friendly hugging, hand holding. That sort of thing.”

“You did _not_ just say ‘family friendly’ about this,” Loki groans, and then tries not to be too heartbroken over the way Thor visibly cringes. That’s the reasonable response, he reminds himself.

“Sorry. But yeah, I don’t think we need to make out in front of people or anything like that.”

Loki hates everything in the world. All of it. Officially. 

“Well, I think we should just go ahead and draw a hard line at kissing,” he says, for the sake of his own sanity. 

(‘Everything’ includes himself, by the way.) 

“Sure,” Thor says with a nod. “No kissing. That’s fine. None whatsoever. No need for that.” 

“Fine.” 

“Perfect.” 

“You owe me for the rest of your fucking life, Thor.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

Thor shrugs one more time, smiling apologetically, and Loki swears under his breath and turns the car off. 

The holiday cheer continues into the lobby, complete with enormous, real Christmas tree and roaring fire, and while Thor gets them checked in, Loki tries not to think too hard about the fact that he’d just heard Thor say the words ‘make out’ and ‘need to’ and ‘we’ all in the same sentence, regardless of whether or not there was a ‘don’t’ in there as well. He’s just glad that he doesn’t have to meet anyone and therefore be subjected to any further more-than-brotherly affection until tomorrow. In fact, he might go straight to bed, limit his Thor exposure now and steel himself for whatever hardships await.

And he’s so looking forward to going to bed that he doesn’t think anything of it when Thor comes back from the front desk, hands him a room key, and says, “Apparently we got upgraded.” It’s not until they’re on the top floor of the lodge, down at the very far end of the hall, that he even thinks to ask what sort of upgrade it was. 

“Lake view,” Thor answers. “They said it was ‘courtesy of the brides-to-be,’ so I guess Carol took care of it.” 

Nice of her, Loki thinks, until he gets the door open. 

There’s only one bed. 

It’s a big one, but—Loki steps in and takes a look around to confirm—yeah. It’s the only one.

For fuck’s sake. 

“Oh,” Thor says from the doorway, casual, almost _amused_ , and Loki considers going back down to the front desk and asking for their non-view double room back. There’s not even a couch in here that he can make Thor sleep on, just one of those stupid chair-and-a-half things in front of the fireplace, looking as cozy and picturesque as the rest of this place… And a note on the dresser actually, with _T+L_ written on the outside. 

> _Hi guys! Hope you don’t mind me butting my nose in, but I know how hard the long distance thing is. I thought you two could use a little upgrade in case you want to stay indoors and catch up some more... ;)_
> 
> _Glad you both could make it, and can’t wait to meet you, Loki!_
> 
> _Carol_

Loki abstains from making some ungodly noise of despair and hands the note over to Thor, who has the gall to say, “Aw, see, this is why I like Carol. She’s thoughtful.”

Thoughtful. She’d paid for them to have a nicer room to _fuck in_ (!!!), and Thor says ‘ _thoughtful_.’ 

But while Loki stands there, trying to keep from imagining what that might look like and failing, face burning and probably bright red, Thor goes on about his business, peeking out the windows, trying the chair, checking out the bathroom, seemingly unbothered by the whole thing. And why shouldn’t he? Sharing a bed with your brother is inconvenient, yes, especially when you’re both fairly large guys and over six feet tall, but the reason it’s a big deal to Loki _definitely should not be a reason_. So maybe if he can’t get his shit together and calm down, it might start to look a little suspicious. 

_It’s not a big deal,_ Loki tells himself. It’s a lie, but maybe with enough repetition, he’ll start to believe it. 

“Ooh, we got a jacuzzi tub for two,” Thor suddenly shouts from the bathroom. 

Loki sits down hard on the edge of the bed and drops his head in his hands. 

“It’s a big fucking deal,” he groans under his breath.

———

Loki fully expects to lay there miserable all night, too tense next to Thor to sleep, but at some point, the long day of traveling catches up with him, and even knowing that Thor is only an arm’s length away (in comfy looking grey shorts that will be seared into Loki’s memory forever) can’t keep him awake. They’re still on their respective sides of the bed when Thor’s alarm goes off before the sun has even risen, thankfully, and Loki breathes a little sigh of relief to himself before he smacks Thor in the back of the head with a pillow. 

“Turn it off,” he grumbles, rolls onto his stomach, and goes back to sleep.

He’s alone when he wakes up again, which is a bit disappointing in a masochistic kind of way, but for the best. He gets to shower and get dressed in peace while Thor is presumably being too hot for words down in the lodge’s fitness center, and by the time Thor turns back up, Loki is feeling slightly less in danger again, like he could make it through the next few days mostly unscathed after all. He even resists the temptation to look too closely when Thor lets himself in, because god knows seeing his brother sweaty and breathing hard with his very pullable hair all damp and tousled is the last fucking thing he needs. 

… Second to last, he amends to himself when Thor emerges from the bathroom a while later with just a towel wrapped around his waist, still dripping from his shower.

“Forgot my clothes out here,” he says with one of those _lol silly me_ grins, like he doesn’t notice the way Loki nearly bites through his tongue at the sight of those massive arms, stupid abs, and tits so perfect he could cry. 

Disgusting. 

If they weren’t supposed to be meeting Carol and her fiancee Maria for brunch in just a few minutes, Loki would seriously consider flinging himself off the balcony. 

… But maybe he can do that later, he decides once Thor emerges dressed again, maybe after he’s had more time to appreciate the sight of him in a sweater that clings to his chest and looks almost as soft as the Special Just-for-Loki Smile.

———

Despite how edible Thor looks, Loki survives brunch without drooling on himself. Carol and Maria provide ample distraction in the form of good conversation, though they also provide the opportunity for a few missteps, like when Loki orders a Denver omelette with extra cheddar and has to (regretfully) add, “No ham please,” when Thor gives him a warning look. 

“Oh, I thought you were vegan,” Carol says, and Loki resists the urge to glare right back at Thor for telling him wrong.

“I did try for a while,” he lies. “I couldn’t give up the cheese.” 

It goes well enough aside from that. Loki even does what he thinks is a fine job of bullshitting his way through the topic of their imaginary Italian vacation, and he hardly flinches when Thor casually drops an arm over his shoulders while they sit there chatting. (He can handle that, though, regardless of how good Thor smells.) Carol and Maria are quick to tease both each other and Thor, and Loki’s sure he’ll be a target soon as well, once they get more comfortable with him. They seem competitive too, judging by the way Maria pleasantly suggests that she’ll likely be out-skating Carol by the end of the day, regardless of how much less experience she has on the ice. 

… Which unfortunately prompts Thor to say, “There’s ice skating?” with a look in his eye that Loki knows well enough to know he’s in trouble. (That whole business with their dad’s car was preceded by a similar one, as a matter of fact.)

“I don’t think—,” Loki starts to say, before anyone can answer him, but Thor turns and gives him a hopeful look that has no right to be that gorgeous and stalls whatever he was going to say on his tongue. 

“Come onnn… please?” he says, and then adds a little, “Babe?” with a shoulder squeeze tacked on for good measure.

Loki hates pet names. He would also flat out murder someone to hear Thor call him ‘babe’ again.

“Fuck me,” he sighs in resignation. 

—and then chokes when Thor winks and stage whispers, “Later, babe. Even though it should be my turn.” 

Maybe the person he’ll flat out murder is Thor. Hey, who knows. 

———

Loki manages to delay the inevitable for a little while, but after they’ve bundled up, wandered most of the resort area, and circled back around to the frozen lake, Thor spots the _‘Skate Rentals’_ sign, and he knows there’s no putting it off any longer. There are several rinks shoveled clear on the lake with poles around each, strung with more lights and garland over the ice and oversized ornaments here and there, and, concerningly, no wall or railing for anybody unsure of their skating ability (like Loki) to hold onto. But everyone is smiling and chattering and looking disgustingly pleased to be out there despite the cold, including Carol and Maria, who are laughing and trying to knock each other off course while they race around one of the emptier rinks. 

“See, doesn’t that look like fun?” Thor says. 

“No,” Loki replies, just because he can. 

Fifteen minutes later, he’s doing his best to wobble his way around the rink without looking as unsteady as he feels. The fact that Thor has already fallen on his ass twice makes him feel a little better about the ordeal, but now that his brother has found his feet and lapped him three times, he’s tempted to stick a leg out the next time Thor comes around and even things up again. But then again, despite the fact that Loki has always been the more graceful one, he’s not sure he could manage to trip Thor and stay upright himself just yet. 

Also, the next time Thor comes up behind him, he slows his pace and grabs Loki’s hand, not to mess with him or tug him along faster, but just to hold it, and that’s plenty to deal with on its own, skates or no skates. 

“Fun, right?” Thor says, smiling. His cheeks and nose are red, and there are snowflakes melting in his beard. Loki loves and hates him so much. 

He rolls his eyes, figuring that’s answer enough, and Thor squeezes his hand with a laugh. 

It takes a little while longer for Loki to start getting the hang of things (both the ice skating and coping with the overall size of Thor’s hand wrapped around his and its warmth bleeding in even through their gloves). But by the time they pass Carol and Maria and a third woman who Thor points out as Val sitting on a bench just outside their rink, watching them, he doesn’t feel as awkward about being observed as he might have at the start. 

“Looking good, boys,” Maria calls as they glide by. Val looks less convinced, though, and when Loki realizes he’s being sized up, he’s doubly thankful that he missed out on that introduction at the airport.

He means to ask Thor what on earth he’s told her about him to put that dubious look on her face, but the moment he opens his mouth to do so, his skate catches on a rut in the ice and sends him lurching forward—but Thor manages to catch him around the waist and skid them to a stop out of the way of everyone else before he can bruise both his face and his pride.

“Whoa there, you alright?” Thor asks. 

He’s much too close, and Loki’s heart is already stuttering in his chest from the near miss, but he pulls himself together and nods. “Just tripped,” he says. It’s probably karma for thinking about tripping Thor earlier, but he keeps that to himself. “I’m fine. You can let go of me.” 

“I could, but I’m gonna give it another minute since you’re my boyfriend.” 

Thor grins and pulls him a little closer. Again, Loki thinks of how much he’d like to choke him and/or kiss him, but since he can’t do either, he lets out a huff and allows himself to be held for the moment. It’s a short moment, anyway, and just when he’s getting comfortable with Thor’s warmth pressed up against him, Thor starts to pull away. 

But Loki doesn’t get the chance to feel bereft over it before Carol suddenly shouts, “Oooh, kiss him!” across the ice. He doesn’t know if she’s talking to Thor or to him, but he _does_ know that there’s no way in hell he’s initiating anything here. 

“Don’t you dare,” he hisses, just to make sure they’re on the same page, but Thor looks far too amused by the suggestion for Loki’s comfort. 

“Ohh, yeah, you gotta!” Maria adds, and when Loki turns her direction, very seriously intending to question that statement, she points over his head. 

Over _their_ heads, actually, where there just happens to be an enormous sprig of mistletoe tied up with red ribbon among the lights and ornaments above the ice. 

“Well, shit,” Thor says. “Look at that.”

“I don’t see anything,” Loki lies. 

“Maybe just a tiny little—,” Thor starts, but he absolutely cannot finish that sentence, or Loki really will strangle him. 

“Absolutely not. We said no kissing, so there will be no kissing.”

“Kiss him! Kiss him! Kiss him!” Carol has started chanting now, and Loki finds that his coat and scarf are suddenly much too hot. And that maybe he doesn’t care for Carol that much after all. 

“You know they’re not gonna let it go,” Thor says. 

Has he moved in closer? Loki might be imagining that, but he leans back just to be safe. 

“It’s the law, guys! You have to!” 

“Yeah, kiss already!”

“See? It’s the law,” Thor repeats, on the verge of laughing. Loki would like to punch him for that, but if Thor can laugh about this, how telling would it be for Loki to make a huge fuss over it? If he couldn’t treat it like the ridiculous situation it is and get it over with? He doesn’t want to think about the sort of conversation that would follow if he just walked away right now in front of everyone. 

Besides. It’s not as though he’s ever _not_ wanted to kiss his brother. 

Thor apparently sees the resignation on Loki’s face, and whispers, “We’ll make it quick. No tongue, I promise.” 

“I’d bite you if you tried it,” Loki snaps, which is not true. He’d probably pass out.

“I would expect nothing less, _babe_ ,” Thor laughs, and leans in. 

Loki can’t say exactly what it is beyond quick, which it certainly is, just as Thor had promised. There’s the prickle of beard on his chin and his cheek, a brush of cool lips against his, the warmth of Thor’s breath and the smell of the latte he’d had while they walked around the resort earlier, all for only a brief moment, and then nothing. Good, bad, magical, boring, heartbreaking… he can’t decide. It’s none of the things he thought it would be, or maybe all of them at once. 

He really needs to try it again, he thinks immediately, and then banishes the thought just as fast.

“I hate pet names, by the way,” Loki says, just to say something, and Thor huffs out a little laugh, still close enough for Loki to feel it rather than just hear it. 

“Alright, Lo.”

The brief squeeze that Thor gives him and the proximity and the fact that they just fucking _kissed_ makes that ‘Lo’ hit way harder than it should, and he decides he should have kept his mouth shut. Maybe ‘babe’ would have been easier after all. 

And maybe he really will trip Thor here in a minute, he decides as Thor grabs his hand and starts off again. 

The idea has hardly occurred to him when he tries to follow, loses his footing, and lands directly on his ass this time. 

(Thor laughs, so of course Loki tugs him down to the ice along with him as punishment.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More tomorrow, but in the meantime, please drop me a line if you're enjoying it so far! And don't forget to subscribe if you don't want to miss any updates 👀
> 
> Thanks for readingggg ❤️❤️❤️❤️


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Loki torment continues 😊

Yesterday afternoon, Loki’s brother kissed him. 

Thor _kissed_ him, and _smiled_ , and called him _‘Lo’_ all soft and sweet, and _held his hand_ most of the afternoon while they walked through the holiday market set up on the resort grounds. And _then_ , he’d woken up with one of Thor’s enormous arms draped over his side this morning, and somehow, despite all this, he hasn’t yet burst into flames or lost his sanity or said something idiotic like, _“I’m in love with you so may I please suck your dick?”_

“Oh, sorry,” Thor had mumbled while Loki laid there trying to decide what to do, his voice deep and rough with sleep, and rolled back onto his side of the bed as though nothing strange had happened, as though he hadn’t kissed Loki less than 24 hours ago and left him wondering how he’ll ever learn to live with the fact that he’ll never feel Thor’s lips on his again. 

On second thought, maybe his sanity isn’t as secure as he’d supposed.

———

Their second full day starts off late. Thor skips the workout, and Loki finds himself moving a little gingerly after his hard landing on the ice yesterday. But they do eventually get up and around and find something to eat before they make their way back outside into the cold winter air, where they find a short wait for rides in—and Loki really should have expected this—a one-horse open sleigh. 

“If you say, ‘Oh what fun,’” Loki warns Thor, “I’ll slap you right in the face.” 

Thor considers this a moment, and then asks, “Am I allowed to laugh all the way?”

Loki jabs him in the side with an elbow. 

It’s a good deal colder in the sleigh with the wind in their faces, especially once the driver takes them out of the trees and into a wide open field, bright white and dazzling in the pale sunlight. But there’s a heavy blanket on the seat for them to share, and Thor doesn’t seem surprised or inconvenienced when Loki (takes his life in his hands and) scoots a bit closer to him under it for warmth (and for Other Reasons). In fact, he takes it a step further and puts an arm around Loki’s shoulders. He probably thinks it’s meant to be another boyfriendly display to be played along with, Loki figures. 

… For the driver, who isn’t even facing their direction and doesn’t know them? It’s not like there’s anyone else around out here. The horse certainly doesn’t care. 

Loki resists the temptation to either move to the farthest edge of the seat or lean into Thor a little more snugly. But, no. Clearly Thor is just going with the flow, keeping up appearances whether or not they technically need to be concerned about that right this moment, and Loki isn’t going to call attention to their current arrangement. He’s going to sit here and enjoy his sleigh ride and how perfect Thor is next to him. 

“There’s really bells on the sleigh,” Thor chuckles then, head turned so that Loki can feel his breath against his ear. 

“So cliché.”

“You might say those sleigh bells are… jingling. Ring ting tingling, too, even.”

The driver does turn around when Thor swears and yelps, but Loki just gives him a pleasant smile and pinches Thor under the arm again. 

———

They’ve hardly climbed out of the sleigh when they run into Val, and Bruce, another friend of Thor’s from work (though they tell Loki that he’s taken another job recently). Bruce is nice enough, and Val doesn’t look quite so distrustful today now that they’ve been introduced, but she still eyes Loki like he’s hiding something.

So while Thor and Bruce wait in line at a coffee stand at the outdoor market, and Loki and Val hold a table next to a patio heater for the four of them, Loki decides to take this opportunity to find out why. 

“You don’t like me,” Loki says, and Val doesn’t bother arguing, which he appreciates. She only gives him a shrug.

“I don’t know you.” 

“Is it one of those ‘if you hurt him, I’ll kick your ass’ situations?”

Val shrugs again. “Possibly,” she says. “Though to be honest with you, I didn’t think you were real up until I saw you yesterday.” 

Loki snorts. It’s too near the mark, and for a moment, he considers telling her the truth, since he’s pretty sure she’ll be a tough one to convince anyway. But then he remembers that she’d just seen them kiss the day before, and immediately decides to stick to the plan instead.

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve never seen anyone as hung up on another human being as Thor is on you. He talks about you like you’re too good to be true, so I figured you were.”

Loki would swear his stomach just tied itself in a knot.

“It’s none of my business,” Val says, casual, like that wasn’t the best and worst thing Loki has ever heard. “I’m not threatening you or anything. He’s just head over heels in love with you, and I’m trying to figure out why. I expected some sort of demigod or something, the way he gushes about you.” 

He’s sitting down, but it feels like he’s back on those ice skates, unsteady, liable to topple over if he tries to do anything but stand still. 

But Thor could’ve said anything about his fake boyfriend with zero bearing on how he actually feels about Loki himself, he gets that, of course. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It _doesn’t_ mean anything. 

That doesn’t change the fact that he very much wants it to mean something. He would kill for it to mean something.

He should be coming up with a response, but he can’t think of a single thing. Hopefully whatever his face is doing isn’t giving him away, because he can’t be expected to control it and not have a nervous breakdown at the same time. It’s one or the other, he’s afraid.

“Anyway, you seem alright so far. I’ll just keep an eye out for any magical abilities or love potion roofies, though.” 

She smiles when she says it, just a little upturn at the corner of her mouth, but considering where they started, Loki figures he should count it as a win. Whenever he’s finished with his current crisis, though.

(So… never then.)

Thor and Bruce choose the next moment to turn up with coffee for everyone, complete with a shot of whiskey in Loki’s, which he is very glad he requested now. He takes too big a sip and burns his tongue and the roof of his mouth, but at least staying occupied with his drink saves him from having to participate in the conversation until he’s ready to do so. 

———

It’s snowing again by the time they’ve all finished their coffee, and Bruce, the only one at the table with any sense as far as Loki can tell, finally says, “Why are we out here in the cold when there’s a nice big lodge with a nice big fireplace like five minutes that way?”

No one has a good answer for that, so they all start trudging through the wet slush the pathway has turned into back toward the lodge. Thor’s hand finds Loki’s again as they walk, and he’s grateful for the warmth, even if he’s still conflicted from his conversation with Val. 

But Thor gives him another soft smile along with the hand, and it gets Loki’s stomach twisting again, that little swoop somewhere between pleasant and unpleasant that only means he’s an idiot. Because Thor has always looked at him like that, and it’s never meant anything before. It doesn’t now. They’re still as related as they were before Val said Thor was in love with him, and nothing’s going to change that. Or the fact that Thor’s been lying about him to her for months, so of course she’s not going to be a reliable source on the matter.

“I miss that sleigh and the blanket now,” Thor tells him. “It’s freezing.” 

It was freezing there, too, Loki thinks. Well, except where they were pressed together. 

Suddenly, he misses the sleigh and blanket himself. 

“Yeah. I’m frozen, too,” he sighs.

“You know what else it is?”

“What?”

“It’s _lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with_ —ow!”

Loki doesn’t give him the chance to finish before he snatches his hand back and smacks him in the arm, but Thor is undeterred this time. 

“Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling yoo hoooo,” he sings offkey, slipping out of Loki’s reach, but Loki’s not letting him get away that easy. 

“I’m not calling yoo hoo,” Bruce says to Val while Loki chases after him. “Are you calling yoo hoo?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with youuuuu— _oh shit!”_

The handful of snow down the back of Thor’s collar shuts him up, and Loki stoops for another, intent on shoving it in his face this time. But Thor beats him to it, laughing while Loki splutters at the shock of cold on the back of his neck and nearly falls over, and so there’s really only one thing left for Loki to do. 

“I’ll show you freezing,” he says as he grabs Thor’s leg and knocks him down into the snow. It’s his turn to cackle now, and he does, even after Thor reaches out and pulls him down, too. 

His pants are soaked through in no time while they wrestle like they’re little kids again, and he’s pretty sure he’s got a pinecone tangled in his hair, but Loki can’t help but keep laughing along with Thor. He’s missed him too much, missed being stupid and getting into trouble with him, missed having him close enough to pester and be pestered in return… not just for all the other, less brotherly reasons. 

“That’s just sickeningly sweet,” Bruce says from the walkway. 

“Yeah, disgusting,” Val agrees. 

… Less brotherly reasons that he is abruptly reminded of when he finds himself flat on his back with Thor straddling him, practically giggling while he tries to stuff more snow down the front of Loki’s coat.

This is way too dangerous now, Loki decides, and bats Thor’s hands away. If he lays here with his brother’s weight pressing into him like this much longer, not even the cold is going to keep him from seriously embarrassing himself.

Thor huffs out another laugh and says, “We’re so sweet, Lo, did you hear that?”

“The sweetest,” Loki says. It comes out way more casual than he feels, thankfully, and it lets him catch Thor off guard and roll them both almost all the way over, until he’s propped up on one elbow and Thor is the one on his back. 

“I mean, they’re just rubbing it in our faces at this point, Val,” Bruce sighs. 

“You wanna show ‘em sweet for real?” Thor says, grinning up at Loki like an idiot, but an extremely good looking idiot that Loki is hopelessly in love with and would do anything for as long as he keeps looking at him like that. 

He realizes what Thor said a moment too late, and is therefore very unprepared when Thor grabs his scarf, tugs him down, and kisses him. 

It doesn’t last all that much longer than the first had, but it isn’t a little peck on the lips like that had been, either. Loki doesn’t know if Thor has just gotten caught up in the moment or if he’d had them spike his coffee a lot harder than Loki’s, or both, but this is the sort of kiss he might have imagined they’d have for the very first real time, as unlikely as it ever has been… soft but deliberate all at once, chaste but with a barely there promise of much more to come. Loki catches himself before he can respond in kind, though it’s a close call, and hates himself for it—and then suddenly it’s over, and Thor is smiling again like they’ve just gotten away with some kind of clever joke.

“Ugh, you guys are gross,” Loki hears Val complain, though she sounds miles away with his head swimming like it is. 

“You’re just jealous,” Thor tells her, and then he’s climbing to his feet and helping Loki up on legs that feel like jello. 

Somehow they make it back to their room. Loki is only vaguely aware of giving Val and Bruce a distracted _‘see you later’_ at the entrance of the lodge, but not much else between that and the kiss. He hopes he hadn’t been acting as strange as he feels, but Thor is a little quiet himself by the time they shut the door behind them and start peeling off their wet coats. If he noticed the difference in Loki’s behavior or has any thoughts about the cause of it, he doesn’t say anything though, so Loki just changes into dry clothes in the bathroom, turns on the gas fireplace, and sprawls himself over the wide armchair in front of it with his feet propped up. 

Tomorrow is the wedding, and the day after that, he gets to run away back to San Francisco again. He’s worried about these last few days, but if he’s honest with himself, he can also admit that he’s not quite ready for this to be over. 

———

A clattering noise in the bathroom wakes Loki up some time later… enough time later that the sun is now hanging just above the horizon, and he’s developed a little crick in his neck from the unintentional nap in this absurdly large chair. It’s a very comfortable chair too, though, and it’s not like they have any plans for the evening, so he rearranges a bit and closes his eyes again. 

… And wonders what Thor’s up to in there. It sounds like the water in the stupid jaccuzzi tub is running… and yes, that must be the jets turning on. 

Actually, Loki might have some thoughts about what Thor might be up to after all. They probably aren’t accurate, but he can indulge once in a while, especially when they involve the lovely mental image of Thor kicked back in the tub with his dick in his hand, his ridiculous arms and tits all wet and glistening, face flushed while he jerks himself… Or hey—the bathtub is built for two, right? 

Hmm. Not built for the sort of activity Loki has in mind, though. And he’s so very comfortable, anyway. 

… But this chair could probably fit them both. He’s pretty sure they could make it work fine. Especially if Thor straddled him again. 

Or he could straddle Thor. That’s fine, too. Either way, really, as long as somebody’s straddling somebody. And there’s more kissing, and he actually gets to participate in the kissing this time. 

He’s still trying to decide whether he’d just go ahead and sit on Thor’s cock or slip onto the floor between his knees to blow him when the real Thor’s hand gently squeezes his shoulder, and he realizes he’s not quite as awake as he’d thought. 

“What—fuck, what,” he gasps, jerking upright. 

“Whoa, sorry. You alright?”

A quick glance down tells him he’s in the clear, so he sighs and nods, and Thor gives him another squeeze before he walks away. 

Well that could’ve been mortifying. God. 

“I thought you might wanna go get dinner before it got too late.”

It’s dark outside now, past 8:00 if the clock on the nightstand is correct. Loki rubs his face and stands up, stretches… he didn’t mean to fall asleep at all, much less sleep through most of the evening, but he’s definitely hungry now, and when Thor says there’s an Italian place with good reviews a short drive away in the next town over, Loki’s stomach grumbles loudly enough for him to hear it across the room. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs. 

———

The restaurant is a tiny little place in an old house, dimly lit and smelling of freshly baked bread and garlic in the very best way, every table full. Thor doesn’t point anyone out that he recognizes, and Loki figures they’re far enough from the resort that none of the other wedding guests would be here. 

It means there’s no reason for Thor to keep his hand in the small of Loki’s back while they wait for a table, no reason for Loki to stand as close to him as he does. But neither one of them makes any effort to drop the boyfriend act all the same. 

They’re given a round booth in a corner, windows behind them in either wall with snow piled up on the sills that softens the glow of the Christmas lights strung around them. There’s a candle on the table, some sort of jazz rendition of that godforsaken Sleigh Ride song playing faintly in the background, and for some reason, the two of them have shifted around next to each other until their knees are barely touching under the table. Loki couldn’t say why or how that happened, but he isn’t complaining.

A glass and a half of wine later, Loki’s feeling a little reckless and thinks _fuck it_ before he lets his leg fall against Thor’s like they’d been arranged in the sleigh earlier. 

Thor doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t move either. 

Dinner is excellent. So is the atmosphere. They’re quieter than usual, maybe, but it’s a comfortable sort of quiet, and whether or not Loki’s said anything funny, Thor keeps giving him those smiles that make him warm all over and fill him with despair at the same time. If this were really a date, Loki would already be thinking about how best to get Thor into his bed and keep him there for the foreseeable future. And maybe he _is_ thinking about that a bit, if he’s honest, even though he knows it’s pointless. They’re sharing a bed already, but sleeping is the only thing they’ll be doing in it.

Loki is in no hurry to get back and remind himself of that, and for whatever reason, Thor seems to be in agreement about taking their time. He orders more wine, then dessert (tiramisu that they share), and then asks if Loki wants coffee, and by the time they’ve finished that, Loki finally looks up to find the place mostly empty and chairs being stacked in the corner of the next room. 

“Guess we better get out of here, huh,” Thor says, sounding almost regretful, though maybe that’s just Loki projecting.

(Thor has paid for everything so far, as promised, but Loki drops an extra and very generous tip on the table before they leave, just for hogging the table so long.)

———

He retreats back to his comfy chair in front of the fire once they’re back at the room, not quite ready to climb into bed with Thor after the bittersweet sort of day he’s had. 

And because this is Loki’s life, Thor has other ideas. Of course. 

“Scoot.”

Thor is standing over him, looking sexier in sweatpants and a t-shirt than any man has a right to look, with two mugs of something steaming in his hands. 

“Where’d you get that?” Loki asks. He can smell chocolate now, and peppermint, and despite just having eaten dinner, he can admit it smells pretty good. 

“The lodge has a hot cocoa and cookies direct to your room delivery service. Can you believe that?” 

Based on everything else he’s seen, yes, Loki can believe that. 

“Now scoot, Lo.”

Scoot where and for what purpose, Loki has no idea, but that’s Thor’s big brother, _you have to do what I say_ voice, which means there’s a slap or a pinch or, worse, a tickle attack in it for him if he doesn’t comply. So he moves his legs off the big cushy footstool and tries to get out of the way, thinking Thor means to sit on it. Instead, Thor squeezes into the chair right next to him. 

“Thor, what—”

“Don’t make me spill this on you,” Thor says, making himself at home. “Be still.”

Loki doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do, so he accepts his hot chocolate and Thor’s warmth pressed up against his whole right side, and nearly chokes on a marshmallow a moment later when he remembers his half-conscious musing earlier about whether or not they could both fit in this chair. It seems they can, though he doesn’t really see it going the way he imagined.

It should take longer than it does for Loki to give in and relax, though. He supposes the wine and the food and the general coze of the present situation are working against him, and before he knows it, the cocoa is gone, they’ve both put their feet up, and Thor has turned on the lodge’s 24-hour holiday movie channel with the volume down low. 

He could fall asleep like this again, very easily. Especially when Thor shifts around and resettles with his arm across the back of the chair, leaving a perfect little space for Loki to lean into against his side, though he stops short of dropping his head on Thor’s shoulder. At this point, after everything that’s happened today, he could almost believe that Thor wouldn’t mind if he did, could maybe even _want_ that, but the consequences of being wrong are way too severe to take the risk. And there’s no way, anyway. No way in hell is this fucked up crush of his is more than one-sided. He’s got to maintain some semblance of self control here. 

… Which is ironically the last thing he remembers thinking before he’s woken up yet again with Thor’s hand on his shoulder, and his head tucked snugly into the side of Thor’s neck. 

“Hey,” Thor breathes, far too close, but Loki is too sleepy to panic this time. Better to just pretend everything is fine, because if it weren’t, Thor wouldn’t sound that soft and sweet. 

God, he smells good. 

“You wanna go to bed, Lo?”

_With you? Anytime,_ Loki thinks, and reluctantly sits up straight, yawning as he goes. 

“Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up, but I figured your neck was gonna hurt like a bitch tomorrow if I just let you sleep on me,” Thor adds.

Loki is also too sleepy to try and read anything into that. It’s probably nothing anyway. 

He halfway stumbles the short distance to the bed and curls up on his side while Thor turns things off, and just before he dozes off again, he feels Thor settle in with his back right up against him. If he weren’t on the very edge of consciousness, he might feel the need to stress about that, but he is, and Thor’s breathing and his warmth lull Loki to sleep almost instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you're enjoying so far ❤️ 
> 
> See you tomorrow 👀👀


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 TIME FOR A WEDDING 🥂

The wedding is lovely. 

Loki’s never been a huge fan of weddings in general, but he can admit that Carol and Maria have done it right. They’re both beautiful in white, and the small chapel on the resort grounds is decorated like something straight out of an Instagram post, lush winter greenery, white flowers, and little red berries at the end of every pew and in their bouquets. 

It also doesn’t hurt that Thor is in attendance, looking so gorgeous in a perfectly tailored navy blue suit that Loki had tripped over his own feet when he came out of the bathroom and saw him earlier. He takes the aesthetic of the whole event up several levels just on his own in Loki’s opinion, and maybe in the opinion of a handful of other guests Loki hasn’t met. He doesn’t mind Thor grabbing his hand or slipping an arm around his waist nearly as much when there’s someone else giving Thor a once-over across the room… except when he remembers that he’s got no reason to feel any sort of secure or superior in his position. 

… But.

He didn’t have enough wine at dinner last night to have forgotten any of the previous evening, and here in the bar off the main lobby of the lodge, with everyone standing around chit-chatting and having pre-dinner drinks and hors d’oeuvres while the wedding party is outside taking advantage of the stunning sunset over the lake for photos, Loki can’t stop thinking about all the looks, the little touches… Thor has always been affectionate, he knows this, but after the last couple days, he’s not totally sure where the line between brother and fake boyfriend is anymore. Was it like this before he moved away? If he’d fallen asleep snuggled into Thor’s side like that anytime in the last couple decades or so, would Thor have acted so regretful about waking him up? Would he ever have gotten the opportunity in the first place?

Has the Just-for-Loki Smile always looked like it was just there to keep Thor from saying something he shouldn’t, like it does right now?

“You okay?” Thor asks, and the smile fades off his face. 

“Fine,” Loki lies. 

There shouldn’t be any reason that Loki could possibly come up with to justify this line of thinking. It was unbelievable enough for him to have fallen in love with his brother in the first place. There’s no way it’s mutual, regardless of what Val said, regardless of the ridiculous twist of hope in his chest that he can’t will away. It’s just wishful thinking, he tells himself. That’s all.

When dinner rolls around, they find their names at a table alongside Val and Bruce, and Loki is grateful that they don’t have to go through the introductory small talk all over again with somebody new. His vegetarian meal option looks a bit sad next to Thor’s steak, but he can’t muster up the will to give him a private glare over that this time. He just puts on his best attempt at a pleasant face and participates in the conversation as little as he can without looking antisocial. 

There is, of course, dancing after dinner, which Loki should have seen coming. He’s ready to give Thor a firm _no thank you_ , too, up until he sees the way Thor perks up when other couples join in after the brides have their first dance. He’s been almost as quiet as Loki has today for some reason, and it just doesn’t feel right at all. Loki doesn’t think he can live with being responsible for making it even worse. 

In fact, by the time Thor finally brings up dancing about three songs later, Loki has almost decided to do it himself. 

“Can I beg for one more favor from you?” Thor asks, leaning over close enough that Loki can feel his breath on his cheek. 

Loki turns his head to whisper back, “There will be no turns, no dips, no grand gestures,” and Thor gives him a grin that, from this close, is almost heartbreaking in its unbridled warmth, and Loki can’t help but return it. 

“Look, Bruce, they’re being disgusting again,” Val observes. 

He’s never been one to resist the urge to be a pest, and after their talk yesterday, he feels the need to shoot her a wink just before he kisses Thor’s cheek. It’s there within easy reach after all, and he’s supposed to be making this relationship look real, right? 

“Come on,” he says, standing up before he can think about what he’s just done. He chooses to find something else besides Thor’s face to look at when Thor takes his hand, too, just in case. 

It doesn’t surprise him that the music changes to something slow and sweet once they arrive at the dance floor, though Thor letting him lead does. 

“You’re probably better at this than me,” is all he says in response to Loki’s questioning look. 

Neither one of them is bad at it, Loki quickly discovers, though that’s secondary to the realization that all this close contact still hasn’t desensitized him to more of it. This is different though, and Loki can’t decide whether it’s more comfortable to keep looking Thor in the face or anywhere but. It doesn’t help that Thor is looking at _him_ every time he glances up, more of that fondness in his eyes that makes Loki ache. When he looks away, though, there’s not much to distract him from the way they’re pressed together or the fact that he can feel every shift in the muscles of Thor’s back under his fingers as they move. It’s enough to make him question agreeing to this trip in the first place all over again, but having to meet those blue eyes from close enough to make out every one of his dark lashes and each freckle across his nose is worse.

(He only tries glancing downward, away from Thor’s eyes, once. And looking at his lips is the worst idea he’s had so far.)

He’s still trying to figure out what to do with himself when the end of the song takes him by surprise, and then he doesn’t get the chance to decide what they’re supposed to do next before he sees a hand reach up and tap Thor on the shoulder. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Odinson,” Carol says with a sly grin, “but I need to borrow your boyfriend.” 

It takes Thor just a moment longer than it should for him to smile back and reply, “As long as you give him back, Mrs. Danvers-Rambeau.” 

“Don’t wander off too far, buddy. You’re up next.”

Thor squeezes Loki’s hand before he lets go of it. “I’m gonna step outside for a minute,” he says, and between that and the look on his face, it’s only politeness that keeps Loki from following him there and then to find out what’s going on. But Carol is waiting patiently, still smiling, so Loki does his best to return it and takes her hand. 

She’s a better dance partner than Thor, just by virtue of not making Loki sweat by simply being close to him, and she’s also obviously riding high on what Loki is sure has been one of the best days of her life, so she almost floats across the floor with him. A look across the room tells him that Maria is in much the same condition, laughing while she dances with someone else. 

“You look radiant,” he tells Carol, in complete honesty, and when she gives him a gentle slap on the shoulder, he adds, “I mean it. Both of you do.” 

“Well, I did just marry the love of my life, so… You know. True love’ll do that to you.” 

Loki hums a response that hopefully doesn’t sound as noncommittal as it feels.

“So what’s your deal, then?” Carol asks. 

Strange question. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re looking sharp as hell, don’t get me wrong. You know how to wear a suit, sir. But you’re also looking way too gloomy, here, you and Thor both.”

“Are we,” he hedges, and Carol nods. 

“Oh yeah,” she says. “But I’m not going to pry. Just let me say one thing. … Or like, three, I guess. Long distance sucks. Big time. But me and Maria made it through, and I don’t know all the details, sure, but I feel like you and Thor are gonna make it, too. You guys are too in love not to.” 

So she thinks they’re just upset that they have to go their separate ways again tomorrow. Loki can work with that. 

“You think so?”

Carol rolls her eyes. “Please. I see the way you look at him, pal—”

Loki sincerely hopes that’s just the power of suggestion and his acting ability working together. 

“—and the way he looks at you. And there’s the fact that I’ve only been hearing about you nonstop for _months_ now. He’s fucking gone on you. Look, you guys are meant to be. Trust me. A couple thousand miles isn’t going to get in the way. I mean, he told me about when he realized he was in love with you, right?”

That particular detail was not included in Thor’s rundown of their backstory… Loki should just play it off and try to wrap this uncomfortable conversation up, he really should, but he’s also curious about whatever nonsense Thor came up with (despite how much it might hurt to hear). 

“Oh?” he says, torn between hoping she’ll move on from the topic and hoping she’ll elaborate. 

“Yeah, we went out for a beer, and it came up. He said it was a long time ago, I don’t remember how long, but I guess you guys went on a trip to the mountains or something one summer, somewhere with a cabin his parents rented, I think? And how he couldn’t stop thinking about you and couldn’t figure out why until you guys snuck out one night and went swimming in the lake and spent all night goofing off.” 

“It was the state park,” Loki hears himself say without thinking. “I was sixteen. He was seventeen.” 

“Yeah! That’s right. But he said you were laying in the grass looking at the sky, and he was just staring at you while you weren’t paying attention, and you said something about how you loved being able to see all the stars, and he almost blurted out, ‘I love you,’ right then.” 

Loki can practically smell the lake water, the pine trees, the cool grass underneath him. He remembers, for the first time in a long time, how badly he’d wanted to roll over and kiss Thor back into it and never come up for air. 

Funny, since he’s having a little trouble breathing now. 

“Anyway,” Carol continues, “my point is that you guys didn’t dance around each other all that time to finally date for a few years and then just give up. It might be rough, but you’ll find a way to make it work.”

Coming up with a coherent response is the most difficult thing Loki’s had to do since they got here. Probably longer than that. But he takes an unsteady breath or two, gives her a nod to buy time, and finally says, “I’m glad you think so.” 

“I know so.”

———

After Loki thanks Carol for the dance, the invitation, and the pep talk, he sneaks out the back door to find Thor outside on the deck, looking out over the frozen lake. 

He goes back and forth in his head with every step toward Thor that he takes:

He should say something. 

And then: he should absolutely _not_ say _anything_ about this. _Ever_.

Thor is a terrible liar. None of the other stupid, irrelevant things he’d made up about Loki had had any basis in fact, so why would he choose that one real, random moment to tell Carol about if it weren’t true? It _has to be_ true. 

But then again: Thor’s pulled off the lie this long, so maybe he’s better than Loki thought. Maybe he’s learned to sprinkle a little truth in here and there to make it more believable, like the vacation they’d actually taken, for example.

The unnecessary touching, the beyond-brotherly affection, the goddamn cuddling last night, the _kissing_ —there’s no way that doesn’t mean something.

No. There’s no way that it _could_ mean anything. Loki’s just projecting, like he always has.

Loki still hasn’t come to a conclusion by the time he reaches Thor.

“Hey, Lo.”

When Loki mirrors his posture, leaning on the deck railing with his elbows propped up on it, Thor casually tilts his direction until their shoulders are touching. 

(But he’s always done this sort of thing, Loki tells himself. It means nothing.)

It’s quiet for a minute or two, aside from the faint music and voices of the wedding guests filtering out into the cold air, and Loki keeps thinking _he does, he doesn’t, he does, he doesn’t_ like he’s a stupid kid picking flower petals to see if his crush likes him, too. 

“I’m not ready to go back to the real world after all this,” Thor finally sighs. 

What does that fucking _mean_ , Loki suddenly wants to shout, and wants to shake him while he’s shouting it. 

“You?” 

“Back to work,” Loki forces himself to say. “Yeah, not appealing.”

“I’m gonna miss this view.” 

A big, flat frozen lake and some snow-covered trees, all of it blue-grey and fading to black in the dark. It’s not much of a view in Loki’s opinion. It’s too clouded over to even make out any stars.

“And all the casual affection,” Thor adds, laughing for the first time today and leaning into Loki a little harder.

“Guess you’ll have to find yourself a real boyfriend, then,” Loki says. It comes out a sort of strained, maybe, but it’s better than him saying _‘god fucking damn it, Thor’_ like he wants to.

Thor hums a reply that tells Loki absolutely nothing and drops his head. “Thanks for handling this so well, though,” he says to the snowy ground below them. “You’ve been really cool about everything.”

Loki just nods, whether or not Thor can see it. 

“It’s almost over now, though,” Thor sighs. 

That sounded nearly _sad_ , Loki’s sure of it. He’s almost positive. And for a split second, that faint glimmer of hope he’s been carrying around for the last day or so flares up bright and burning, and he decides to throw caution to the wind and say something. 

As soon as he opens his mouth, though, before he even knows what was going to come out of it, Thor lets out another huff of a laugh, says, “Thank god, right?” and gives him a brotherly shoulder bump. 

And the glimmer vanishes all at once, like it had never been there to begin with.

Loki shuts his mouth, and then bites his tongue for good measure. 

Never again. 

He might not be able to change how he feels about Thor, but never again will he let himself be stupid enough to ruin everything, like he almost was just now. He should probably thank Thor for saving their entire relationship right there, because he doesn’t see how they could ever recover if he’d laid it all out like he was planning to. 

When Loki stands up straight again but doesn’t say anything, Thor turns to look at him. Loki doesn’t want to meet his eyes, but he does anyway, and the fact that Thor could look at him this way after everything, so fucking soft and sincere and maybe a little sad, like he can see it all there on Loki’s face, makes him want to scream. But he doesn’t. He just forces himself to take a deep breath and hold Thor’s gaze until one of them feels the need to say something. 

But instead, because nothing can ever go the way Loki thinks it will when his brother is involved, Thor leans in and touches his lips to the corner of Loki’s mouth, just a whisper of a kiss. 

“What are you doing,” Loki breathes. He doesn’t dare move.

“Someone’s looking out here.” 

Thor kisses him again, and, again, Loki stands there, frozen. 

“Come on,” Thor mumbles against his lips, “make it convincing.” 

Loki finds that, finally, he’s at his limit. 

_You want convincing? Fine,_ he thinks, and then kisses Thor back. 

Thor lets out a small, surprised noise that Loki almost doesn’t hear over the blood rushing in his ears, but he doesn’t pull away, so Loki doesn’t either. He just tilts his head and closes his eyes, slips a hand up to the side of Thor’s throat, leans into the kiss while Thor grabs at the back of his jacket and pulls him closer, until Thor’s pressed up against the railing and holding onto him like it and Loki are the only things keeping him upright. Loki doesn’t feel bad about that. Thor wanted it to look real, and this is as real as it gets. 

Loki leaves everything he has in this kiss, everything he wishes he could say, everything he wishes Thor would say to him. It’s the only time he’ll ever have this, so he makes sure to put it all out there the only way he can, like he can somehow get it out of his system if he can draw another nearly hurt sound out of Thor, like the one he makes just then. 

He thinks that if he can’t exorcise it this way, maybe he’ll just never come back up for air after all, like he’d thought of at sixteen, laying in the grass with Thor next to him, close, but never close enough. 

He doesn’t know how long it lasts, but at some point, Loki lets go, gives up. He lets out the breath he’s been holding for god knows how long, lets himself ease back, slow, lets Thor follow and coax one more soft, heartbreakingly sweet kiss out of him before they just stand there, breathing the same air with their noses still touching, not saying a word. 

This was a mistake, Loki knows. But whatever Thor thinks of him now, he can’t quite bring himself to regret it when he can still taste Thor on his lips. 

“Thor!” someone shouts. “Hey, Thor!”

It’s Bruce, with his head sticking out of the door. 

Loki immediately takes a step back and stuffs both hands in his pockets, as though to keep them from reaching out for Thor again on their own. 

It’s freezing out here without Thor pressed up against him, he realizes. 

“Hey, Carol’s looking for you, Thor,” Bruce says. “Said you promised her a dance.”

“I didn’t say track him down,” Loki hears Carol protest inside. “Give them some space, god!”

Space is the last thing they need right now, Loki thinks, so he turns around and walks back to the door before he can second guess himself. 

“It’s fine,” he says as he passes Bruce inside. “I was going back to the room anyway.” 

He very intentionally does not look back, and once he’s alone in their room, he finds himself a flight home that leaves several hours earlier than the one he’d already booked, right at the crack of dawn, and packs what he can for tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never fear y'all. This is a terrible Hallmark Christmas movie, not a terrible Lifetime Christmas movie. They'll get their happy ending. 
> 
> (Besides, I am incapable of giving these boys anything but happy endings at this point in my life.)
> 
> One more for tomorrow! I hope you're enjoying so far! ❤️


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE MADE IT ✨

Loki only gets about a week and a half at home by himself to try and mentally prepare for Christmas with his family. 

He hasn’t spoken to Thor since that last night in Vermont, when Thor had come back to their room about an hour after Loki had left the wedding, and their conversation had been brief and stilted on both sides. Loki had just made up something about work, something had come up that he needed to get home and deal with early, and Thor had nodded, said to go ahead and take the rental car, that he could get a ride to the airport with Val later on. And that was it. They’d gone to bed, and then Loki had gotten back up while it was still dark and left while Thor was still huddled up under the covers, facing the other way, asleep as far as Loki could tell. He hadn’t seen the point of waking him up. 

And if Loki had sat in the car on the side of the highway, somewhere between the resort and the airport, shouting himself hoarse and slamming his hands against the steering wheel for a good minute and a half before he calmed back down, well. That’s his business. 

He’s done his best to put it all behind him now, though. And as painful as that last kiss had been, it had also been a little cathartic, too, like a form of closure. Sealed with a kiss, locked away, thrown out for good. He can move on now that it’s done, he tells himself. Frequently. 

Not that it does much good. 

_It won’t with that sort of attitude,_ he reminds himself while he helps Frigga with last minute Christmas Eve dinner preparations. It feels like she’s running circles around him in the kitchen, but if he’s moving slower than usual, she doesn’t mention it. She just stops him with his hands full of plates and silverware, says, “Caught you,” with a laugh, and kisses him on the cheek. It isn’t until he’s wiping the lipstick off his face in the hallway mirror that he notices the mistletoe she’s strung up in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. She catches his father under it a moment later, too, and he feels obligated to tell them they’re being gross, like he’s twelve again, just to keep from thinking about other recent mistletoe-related occurrences.

Because that’s done, over, behind him. No point in thinking about it, or about anything else that happened there at the resort. Especially not the little detail he’d remembered this morning, laying in his old bedroom, failing spectacularly at the whole _don’t think about it_ thing… how Thor had said, _‘Someone’s looking out here,’_ when he’d kissed him on the deck, but how he hadn’t glanced away from Loki’s face once and therefore couldn’t possibly have known whether or not anyone was looking anywhere, much less at them.

But that doesn’t mean anything. 

Loki shakes it off, scrubs at the smudge of lipstick on his cheek again a little harder than necessary, and does not immediately run upstairs to hide like he wants to when he hears the front door open and Thor shout, “Dad? Can I move your car up? Mine won’t fit on the street.” 

It’s fine. All fine. 

It’s certainly a more awkward family dinner than Loki’s experienced in recent memory, too quiet, missing the usual amount of brotherly bickering for sure, but it isn’t awful. He gets through it, and at the end of the night, Thor accepts the pile of leftovers their mom hands him, gets his own obligatory lipstick print to the face under the mistletoe, says he’ll see everyone tomorrow—and gives Loki one brief shoulder squeeze on his way out the door. 

That’s fine, too. Loki doesn’t lean into it all, and he’s very proud of himself for this, and for the way he smiles and tells his mom that everything’s just fine later on when she asks him if he and Thor are doing alright.

———

Christmas morning hasn’t been a source of excitement for Loki since he was a kid, and there’s nothing different about this one in that regard, even though it’s the first time in several years that he’s actually slept at his parents’ house Christmas Eve and gotten to wake up to the smell of cinnamon rolls in the oven. There was never a need to stay over when he only lived on the other side of town, but when his mom brings him a homemade cinnamon roll, still piping hot and sticky, along with a cup of coffee, he can admit that he’s missed this sort of thing. 

She leaves before noon for some sort of charitable meal distribution thing, and she takes Odin along with her, so for a little while, Loki has the house to himself. It’s been rearranged and redecorated since he lived here, but it’s easy enough to remember it the way it was… how he and Thor would fight over the PlayStation in the middle of the living room floor, fall asleep together on the couch waiting for midnight on New Years, whack each other with plastic lightsabers in the upstairs hall and get in trouble for knocking things off the walls in the process… And he also remembers the time he’d paused here outside of Thor’s bedroom, thinking he’d heard something, and then shut himself in his own room for two days when he realized what it was that Thor and his friend the varsity quarterback were up to in there.

Loki fights the urge to lock himself in his room again. He’s not an emo teenager anymore. There’s no need for that. 

“Hello? Anybody home?” 

Thor’s voice, and the front door closing. 

… Loki glances at his bedroom door, tempted. But that’s not going to do him any good, so he takes a deep breath and heads for the stairs.

“Just me,” he says. 

Thor watches him all the way down, and doesn’t speak up until Loki’s standing there awkwardly on the bottom step, unsure of what to do with himself. 

“Mom and Dad aren’t here?” Thor asks.

“No, they had that thing.”

“The thing. Right.” 

“Yeah.”

“And they’re gonna be back…?”

Loki shrugs. “Later? I don’t know.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

Thor keeps staring at him. 

“Did you get the promotion?” Loki says, just to say something. 

“The promo—oh, I haven’t, um, haven’t found out yet.”

“Ah.”

“Interviews went well, I think. So. You know. Anytime now.”

Loki nods.

The clock on the mantelpiece is ticking audibly. Has it always been that loud? 

“How was your, um. Work crisis,” Thor says.

“My what?”

“You had to leave Vermont early. The thing with work. The urgent thing.”

“Oh, that. Right. It was fine. Uh, in the end. It worked out.”

“That’s… that’s good.”

Thor hasn’t looked away once through this whole sad attempt at a conversation. And even though Loki’s father insists on keeping the thermostat right at _you won’t get hypothermia but I won’t have to complain about the heating bill either_ , he’s sweating under the collar here, praying his face isn’t as red as it feels. 

And then, something changes in Thor’s posture, like he’s psyching himself up.

“Can we just—,” he starts to say in a rush, and Loki doesn’t care if he’s just going to follow it with _‘order a pizza.’_ He’s taking no chances, so he cuts him off immediately.

“I’m making a sandwich,” he says, and walks into the kitchen before Thor can get one more word out. 

_He wouldn’t be acting this awkward if he didn’t feel the same way,_ a little voice in the back of his mind whispers, but Loki ignores it and starts digging things out of the fridge. Maybe Thor’s acting awkward because his little brother recently tried to kiss the fucking life out of him. Maybe _that’s_ what it is. 

And _maybe_ he’s gone and fucked everything up irreparably, when he should have just stood there and tried to enjoy one last stiff, unconvincing kiss without feeling the need to all but tell Thor that he wants him in every conceivable way without actually saying the words. Maybe things will never be the same between them, and not only is he never going to be with Thor the way he wants, he’s lost his brother now, too, and it’s all his fault, because he had to be so goddamn stupid and greedy that he—

Loki doesn’t even know what he’s doing, he realizes, standing there with a jar of pickles in one hand and a carton of milk in the other. 

Sandwich. Right. Focus, for fuck’s sake.

He finds the leftover ham from last night’s dinner. Good. Package of cheese, great. Every condiment known to man is in the refrigerator door, perfect. He grabs something at random, tosses everything on the counter behind him without looking. Bread is on the—

Thor is standing right there when he closes the fridge. 

“... Did you want a sandwich, too?” Loki asks, instead of swearing in both surprise and irritation, like he easily could have.

“What? No. No, I just want…” 

But what Thor wants is not forthcoming, and he takes a step forward, then back, runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up (in an annoyingly attractive way, Loki notes with mounting frustration)… It’s clear that he’s trying to find the right words and failing, and Loki is just about to tell him to save himself the effort and keep his mouth shut when Thor glances up and says, “Oh.”

“Oh, what,” Loki says, before he looks up as well.

He’s backed himself up under Frigga’s mistletoe.

Loki makes no attempt at toning down the glare he gives Thor, but Thor just gives him a weak, strained-looking smile in return. 

“It’s the law?” he tries. 

“That’s not funny,” Loki finds himself saying, unsteady all at once. 

“No, no! I didn’t—”

“Get out of my face, Thor,” he warns, louder now.

“Loki, please, I just wanna talk.” 

“I don’t have anything to say.”

He tries to walk away again, but Thor suddenly grabs him by the upper arms and holds him still. 

“Then fucking _listen_ to me for a minute,” he says with his voice raised and firmly in a sort of angry big brother mode Loki hasn’t heard in years. He’s so surprised that he freezes up, doesn’t even bother trying to get away. 

It must show on his face, because Thor takes a breath, then loosens his grip and drags the pads of his thumbs back and forth over Loki’s arms like an apology. “Look,” he starts again, softer now, “I’ve been going back and forth about this for so long, and I have to say something or I’m gonna lose my mind, Lo. Please just let me get this out.

“Carol told me what you and her talked about at the wedding, about when we went to that cabin by the lake, and I didn’t want you to think—”

“Thor, don’t,” Loki says, pleading, because he doesn’t need to hear it. He just wants to forget all of this mess and move on. Is that so much to ask? 

“I didn’t want you to think,” Thor says again, more slowly, more deliberately, like he wants Loki to get every last word, “that I just made that up, like all the other bullshit I had to come up with about you. It was the truth.”

Loki doesn’t believe it. He can’t allow himself to believe it.

“I love you, Loki. I—I’m _in love_ with you, okay? Just to be totally clear. This is not brotherly. It’s probably not okay. But I have been for years, and I can’t change that. And whatever else I told anyone at work about this stupid, fake boyfriend thing, I meant every single word about how I felt about you. All of it, alright?”

Loki is going to wake up any minute, surely. This is the best and the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, and so of course it can’t be real.

“I didn’t think you could ever…” Thor starts to say, and pauses, bites his lip like he can’t get the words out, and then tries again. “Tell me it’s not just me. That kiss after the wedding, Lo… Come on, tell me that wasn’t just me, _please_.” 

If this were really a dream, Loki thinks, Thor probably wouldn’t look so raw and desperate standing here when he already knows the answer, when he _has_ to already know the answer. But he does. He looks and sounds just as raw and desperate as Loki feels, and while Loki has always been able to deal with it on his own, he doesn’t think he can stand the thought of Thor going through this as well. 

“It wasn’t,” he says, quietly enough that he’s not sure Thor heard it, so he says it again. “It wasn’t just you. It isn’t.” 

Thor’s grip on him is a little too hard to be comfortable now, but Loki doesn’t mind. He’d be doing the same if their roles were reversed, or worse, probably, and Thor might be the only thing keeping him on his feet, now that he thinks about it. 

“It’s never just been you,” he goes on when Thor just keeps looking at him, and then suddenly he’s tripping over his words because he can’t get them out fast enough. “I’ve always—my whole life, Thor—I’ve loved you ever since I knew what it meant, and when we were laying in the grass by the lake that time, and when I had to move halfway across the country because I couldn’t take it anymore, the whole time we were in Vermont, right fucking now…”

He means to say more. Now that he’s started, there’s enough of it ready to spill out of him to last them several days at least—but then Thor is kissing him again, and he thinks he can just save it for later. 

It’s effortless, like they’ve been doing this their whole lives. They should have been, Loki thinks, but Thor slips his hands up and digs his fingers into his hair, almost cradling Loki’s head, and he decides that it doesn’t matter what it took for them to get to this point. They’re here, and Thor is kissing him so tenderly, like he’s something precious, and Loki has never once imagined that it could be this good. He never wants it to end. 

Thor never bothered to take his coat off when he came in, and it’s in the way now. The idea of shoving it off his shoulders occurs to Loki, but he’s not sure he could stop with just the coat if he did, and fuck if he doesn’t really, _really_ want to strip Thor bare and pull him down onto the floor right here in their parents’ kitchen. The thought makes him a little lightheaded, actually, so he settles for slipping his hands under it where it hangs open instead, just to get them on his brother in some way, feel the warmth of him through his shirt, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. He shouldn’t get ahead of himself, not when this feels so pure and perfect as it is… He should just relish it for what it is.

Besides, he doesn’t even know if Thor would want to take it that far anyway. This is not by any means a typical situation here, after all. 

He accidentally grazes a nipple with his fingertips then, however, and the loveliest sound wells up out of Thor’s throat right before he mutters, “Fuck,” into Loki’s mouth, moves his hands much farther south, and pulls Loki flush up against him by the ass. 

Okay, so pure was nice. But it’s time to move on now.

Thor swears again when Loki reaches higher, finally gets a hand in that stupid, messy, sexy hair, and pulls him into a much less wholesome open-mouthed kiss. Thor doesn’t complain, though. He just lets Loki back him into the kitchen counter and makes another noise that goes straight to Loki’s cock. 

“ _God_ ,” Thor grates out, “Lo, can I…” 

He doesn’t say what, exactly, but his hand has slipped around to Loki’s stomach now, fingers digging in there like he’s trying to hold back, and honestly, whatever it is he wants to do, Loki’s answer is going to be the same. 

“Yes, yes, _fuck_ , anything.”

If Loki wasn’t completely hard before, Thor getting a hand on him through his jeans takes care of that real quick. It also makes him let out a very stupid, disbelieving little _“ohh,”_ but Thor doesn’t sound that much better off. 

“Are you serious,” Thor mutters, “are you fucking kidding me,” and then drops to his knees. 

_“Thor—”_

The distinct sound of a key turning in the lock on the front door echoes through the quiet house the very next moment.

Their parents are home.

The effect is instantaneous.

“Shit!” both of them gasp at once. 

Thor jumps to his feet and is across the room before Loki can blink, like he’s been burned, while Loki feels more like he’s been doused in ice water and frozen where he stands. They stare at each other, eyes wide and breathing hard for a moment that lasts approximately five years, and Loki watches Thor’s face go from a healthy, horny sort of flush to bright red, then straight on to pale as a ghost when their mother yells, “We’re back!” from the front hall. He imagines his own face does something similar. 

The horrifying thought that Thor might have come to his senses and will never touch him again suddenly occurs to Loki, but before it can take hold, Thor hisses, “We’re _so_ not done here,” at him across the kitchen. The insistent look on his face almost gets Loki squirming again, but then the front door closes, and the reminder that they aren’t alone anymore takes care of any remaining issues he might have had like another bucket of ice straight down the back of his shirt. Or down the front of his pants, more like. 

“Not even close,” he whispers back, then makes a kissy face at him for good measure, and Thor lets out a snort. 

The smile he gives Loki is almost worth everything they’ve been through to get here just on its own.

“Oh, hi, sweetheart. Merry Christmas,” Frigga says to Thor from the doorway a moment later, while they’re still grinning at each other, and Loki tries his best to not look as though he’s just gotten everything he’s ever wanted in the last five minutes or so, like he hasn’t suddenly been made whole. It might be a little suspicious after they’d been so distant with each other last night. 

“No ‘merry Christmas’ for Loki. I see how it is. No ‘sweetheart,’” he says, falsely hurt, and that helps, though it gets Thor smiling even wider. “It’s always Thor, Thor, Thor.” 

“I didn’t see you there, honey,” Frigga says, and then adds with a roll of her eyes, “Don’t be a little shit.”

Thor snorts again and reaches over to pull Loki into a gentle headlock that feels much more like a hug. 

“You know he can’t help it, Mom,” he laughs. 

A pinch gets Loki out of it, as much as he’d happily stay here in Thor’s arms for the rest of the day. It wouldn’t look right if he didn’t put up a little bit of a struggle, after all. 

Thor does take the opportunity to breathe, “Love you,” in his ear before he lets him go, though. 

———

Dinner with the family is tense again, but this time, it’s tense in the best way. Tense because Thor keeps looking at him hungrily over the table, tense because Loki’s foot keeps finding its way up Thor’s leg under the table. 

Loki feels like his heart is never going to beat normally again. Every time Thor catches his eyes, it skips in his chest. Maybe he’s just going to have to get used to it. He’s pretty sure he could, though. It would be a small price to pay.

After Thor announces that he’s going to head home early and get a little rest, he also asks Loki, very casually, how his old bed upstairs is treating him. Loki takes the hint and replies that it’s been awful; he’s hardly slept since he got here (which is true, though it isn’t the bed’s fault). And so it’s only natural for Thor to offer his couch, which is very new and very comfortable, and of course Loki gratefully accepts, if Thor will give him just a minute to pack up his things.

Frigga accuses Thor of stealing her baby away from her with a grin, but then says more seriously that it’ll be good for them to have some brother time together now that Loki’s moved so far away. 

The reminder catches in Loki’s throat. … But he’s not going to think about having to go home yet. He still has a little time. 

Thor stops the car for a minute or two the next street over from their parents’ house, just to lean over and kiss Loki until he’s almost forgotten about having to leave, and then he keeps his hand very firmly wrapped around Loki’s for the rest of the drive back to his apartment. Loki has to laugh to himself when he remembers that this is far from the first time they’ve held hands. It isn’t even the first time recently. 

“What?” Thor asks him, already grinning. 

“We’re fucking idiots,” Loki replies. 

Thor laughs and laughs, and kisses the back of Loki’s hand before he adds in a conspiratorial tone, “Well. We’re about to, anyway.” 

It’s a good thing they’re almost there, Loki thinks. He’s not sure climbing into Thor’s lap while he’s driving would be such a great idea.

But they pull up outside of Thor’s building soon enough, and after another quick kiss that turns into two quick kisses, then two more, and another, not at all quick one that makes Loki feel like he’s going to crawl out of his skin if he can’t get his hands on Thor _right now_ , they hurry upstairs. 

The door has hardly closed behind them when Thor grabs his hand and drags him into the bedroom, rounding on him as soon as they arrive and pulling him into yet another hungry kiss. 

“I love you,” Thor says against his lips, and Loki decides he’s never going to hear that enough. 

“I love _you_ ,” he tells Thor, since maybe he’s thinking the same thing. 

Their coats hit the floor about the same time that Loki’s back hits the bed, and Thor follows him down right away, mouthing at his jaw, his throat, whatever skin he can get at above the collar of Loki’s sweater while Loki tugs at the hem of Thor’s shirt, determined to get it off of him and get his hands on all the ridiculousness he knows is underneath it. Thor seems to be on a mission though, and just when Loki’s about to tell him to get rid of the shirt or get bitten, he slips down the bed and undoes the fly of Loki’s pants, and Loki finds himself speaking up in support of Thor’s mission instead. 

“Oh fuck,” he gasps at the first touch of Thor’s lips to his cock. 

“Do you know how much I’ve thought about doing this?” Thor asks him, like he expects Loki to be able to think straight after hearing that, but Loki pulls through despite it all, including that long, drawn out swipe of Thor’s tongue up the underside of his dick. 

“Maybe as much as I’ve thought about doing it to you,” he chokes out. It doesn’t come out nearly as sultry as he was hoping for, but Thor swears anyway and sucks whatever he can fit into his mouth. 

Thor keeps at it like it’s his one true calling in life, like he was put here on this earth to just give Loki the best head he has ever or will ever receive, and Loki can’t imagine what he’s done to deserve this. All he can do is hold on with his fingers in Thor’s hair and try not to thrust up into his mouth, although when he accidentally slips in that regard, Thor rolls with it and gives him an approving hum that makes him want to come right then and there.

But then Thor pulls back all of a sudden, licking his already wet, red lips and catching his breath. “I’m gonna get carried away here in a minute,” he says, and _god_ , his voice sounds even deeper and rougher than usual. Loki nearly protests, because he would very much like to see ‘carried away’ please, but Thor stands up, tugs off his shirt, and the sight of all that muscle proves to be a fine distraction. 

Also, Thor says, “And I’m gonna lose it if you don’t fuck me right now,” while he starts on his pants, and there’s a good possibility that Loki will spontaneously combust. 

He was ready for Thor to pound him into the mattress. He was really looking forward to it, actually, and he still is, and so maybe they can give that a try later. It’s just… he might have been hoping for this particular arrangement for several years now, so… he might need to stick his head out the window and yell for a minute real quick. 

“… Is that okay?” Thor asks with one leg partially in his jeans after a few moments of Loki just sitting there with his dick out, probably glassy-eyed.

Right.

He starts stripping as quickly as he can without looking like even more of an idiot, saying, “It’s very okay. It is _way more_ than okay,” and Thor grins. 

“Good, ‘cause I’ve been thinking about it a whole hell of a lot, too.”

The way Thor has to stop and stare at him appreciatively once Loki is bare is flattering and unexpected enough to get his face and ears burning, especially considering the fact that Thor naked is the most beautiful sight he’s ever had the privilege to see. His cock is as gorgeous as the rest of him, perfectly proportional, and Loki is sure as fuck getting that thing in him one way or another before this evening is over. But apparently it’s Thor’s turn to be greedy right now, and Loki can’t argue with that, not when Thor tosses the lube at him, climbs into his lap, and lets Loki taste himself on his tongue. 

Despite Thor’s eagerness, Loki starts off a bit unsure of himself, wanting to make it perfect after they’ve both waited so long. But it doesn’t seem to matter what he does; Thor clutches at his back and shoulders with every touch and every brush of his lips and teeth at his throat, and soon enough, Thor is making the most incredible sounds while Loki opens him up with one hand and thumbs teasing little circles around the head of his cock with the other. The idea of keeping this up for the next hour or so is tempting, but after a good long while of Thor rutting up into Loki’s grasp and fucking himself on his fingers, he finally breathes, “Come on, Lo, give it to me,” in his ear, and Loki thinks it would just be impolite of him to keep them waiting any longer. 

And that he might expire if he has to hear something like that again.

A gentle push is all the prompting Thor needs to fall back into the sheets, tug Loki down over him, and wrap his legs around Loki’s hips. And maybe this isn’t quite as effortless as their first (real) kiss had been a few hours ago, but Thor tells him over and over to keep going, that he loves him, that he’s wanted this for forever, and once Loki is pressed into him as far as he can go, he thinks that it feels just as right and pure as that kiss had. 

Then again, his big brother moans, “God, Loki, fuck me, fuck me, come on,” a moment later, so maybe ‘pure’ isn’t really the right word. 

‘Right’ works though. And so would ‘hot as all fuck,’ ‘the best Loki’s ever had,’ ‘a (wet) dream come true,’ … and ‘about to be over real quick if Thor tightens up around him like that again.’ 

_“Shit_ —are you trying to kill me, Thor?” 

“Is it working? Ohhh fuck, right there…” 

They find their rhythm together within a few minutes, not quite desperate but certainly not made to last either. It’s too much for either of them to hold out for long; Loki knows that for sure about himself, and he’d say the same of Thor judging by the way he keeps panting, “Lo, _god_ yeah, it’s so good…” 

And it _is_ good. It’s better than anything Loki has ever felt. Not just the sex, either. It’s also the fact that he isn’t alone in how he feels, that Thor is his, could even _want_ to be his… that Thor wants him just as much. 

… And _fuck_ , Loki’s gonna cry or come or both if he doesn’t get serious here. 

Thor lets him have the best noise he’s heard yet when he slips a hand between them to wrap around his cock, along with, “I’m so close, Loki, come on,” and sure enough, it doesn’t take a minute more for him to all but shout and spill all over them both. This is exactly what Loki wants, but he’s stunned by the sight all the same, just knowing he was responsible for it. He would also like to see it again at least three more times tonight with one of those instances happening directly into his mouth, please. 

In the meantime, though, it seems Thor has recovered a bit, because he starts to urge Loki on with his heels in the small of his back, lifting his hips up to meet every thrust, and there’s only so much Loki can take. 

So Thor saying, “Come on, let me feel it,” along with everything else pushes him right past his limit. He comes, thinking he might fall apart in the process, but Thor’s hands in his hair and low, satisfied encouragement in his ear keep him steady, and he barely takes a moment to catch his breath before he leans in and kisses Thor until he’s breathless all over again.

Never in Loki’s wildest dreams did he think he could have this, much less that it could be as good as it is. But after everything that’s happened today, he thinks that in hindsight, he should have known it would be. They’ve been building up to this their whole lives, after all, and he has to bite back a sudden swell of emotion when he wonders if they’ve now got the _rest_ of their lives to keep exploring this, taking it further than he ever thought it could go.

It’s probably obvious what he’s thinking of when he pushes up on his hands to look Thor in the face, because Thor gives him one of those perfect grins, the one that’s always been just for him. This time, though, Loki realizes what Thor’s been saying with those smiles all along.

“I love you, too,” Loki says, and smiles back.

———

Christmas is over and done with by the time they drag themselves out of bed well after midnight. And they only stay out long enough to grab a drink and clean themselves up a little before they go right back. But it isn’t just nonstop sex either. There’s plenty of that, sure, but there’s also far more talking and swapping soft little kisses and holding each other, and just _staring_ at one another like they can’t believe this has actually happened.

(For the record, though, Loki does get those three more times, including the satisfaction of hearing Thor gasp his name while he comes down his throat.)

In the morning, Loki wakes up with his and Thor’s legs tangled in the sheets and Thor’s hand squarely in the middle of his chest like he couldn’t bear to let go of him even in his sleep, and he decides that is how he wants every day to begin from now on. But then he sees the reminder to check in for his flight back home tonight when he glances at his long-neglected phone, and he has to fight off the urge to shout at the ceiling about the unfairness of it all. 

He can’t stay here. He’s on track to make fund VP in the next year or two, not to mention the godawful lease agreement he’d had to sign on his place in San Francisco that would cost him thousands to get out of. But even if he _could_ find a way to move back here without disrupting his career path and his finances, there’s no way he and Thor could get away with this, not long-term anyway, while living in their hometown with their parents half an hour away and so many people around who know them. 

And it’s not like Thor can leave either, not if he gets this great new job that he’s worked so hard for… Loki wouldn’t dream of letting him give that up just to start over somewhere else.

Of course, as Loki really should have learned by now, things rarely go the way he expects them to when Thor is involved. 

Thor gets a phone call from Carol while they’re drinking coffee in the kitchen. He’s sitting on the counter, absently kicking at Loki where he stands by the sink, and Loki tries not to sigh too audibly when Thor tells her, “Ahh, that’s so good to hear. I’m excited to get started.” 

It’s not like Thor _not_ getting the job would have made things any easier for them. And he deserves it. This is a good thing. It’s just… the rest of the situation is less than good, either way.

But then, after a minute of strangely tense silence, Thor suddenly leaps off the counter, and Loki has to duck out of the way to save his coffee. 

“You’re shitting me,” Thor breathes into the phone, and another, tenser (for Loki) minute goes by with Thor saying nothing but variations on, “Uh-huh, yeah, yeah sure,” followed by a deeply sincere, “Oh my god, Carol, thank you so much,” and Loki is about ready to shake him until he tells him what on earth is going on, whether he’s finished this conversation or not.

He doesn’t need to though. As soon as he gets off the phone, Thor tugs him into a searing, coffee-flavored kiss and then blurts out, “ _I got the job_ but they’re opening a new office and they want me to work there and _Loki it’s in San Francisco_.”

Loki decides then and there that he’ll never complain about unexpected twists again, even bad ones. He’s had enough good outcomes lately to make up for all the rest. 

He also decides that it’s high time for the two of them to go back to bed, and is more than happy to abandon his coffee in favor of Thor carrying him out of the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas to us,” Thor laughs as he eases Loki back into the sheets, and kisses him until he can’t think straight. 

———

Loki spends New Years alone in San Francisco, sadly.

But he does get a FaceTime call at midnight from a very groggy Thor (considering it’s two AM his time), and in addition to the ridiculous sight of Thor kissing his phone camera in lieu of kissing Loki in person, Loki also takes special notice of all the moving boxes scattered around Thor’s halfway packed apartment. One more week, he thinks, and he won’t have to settle for seeing the love of his life via video chat anymore.

Or that special, Just-for-Loki smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (BOTTOM THOR RIGHTS)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and for your lovely feedback ❤️ It's been a little while since I was able to get any writing done, and seeing the amazing response to this has just reminded me of why I love doing this :''''')))) 
> 
> I hope to have something else for y'all soon, but until then, I love and appreciate you all ❤️❤️❤️


End file.
